MHI: Retro
by MosinM38
Summary: What's monster hunting like back in the good ol' days? Well here's a peek. Foul language and much monster killingness included.


"WAAOOOOOO, WAAOOOOOO," the train's whistle's bawled as it slowly pulled to a stop outside of Grand Central Station of New York City.

The conducter moved down the cars, putting down a stoll at the car's doors, allowing easier exit of the high rains. He grimaced as he stopped at the last car. An expensive Pullman car, it was the latest model, most expensive and had the finest wares. And while he himself chuckled at the needless expense, it still dug at him to see the men who inhabited it. While he hadn't followed the car the whole way, his train had picked it up in RIchmond Virginia, it had been relayed from train to train all the way from Alabama, taking it's inhabitants and luggage to the bustling city of New York.

Whereas the car was used to seeing expensive suits, dresses, and assorted finery which would have cost him a year's wages, if not too, the current passengers were a stark contrast.

There was six of them, and from what he'd glimpsed of them, heavily armed. When they had left and boarded after a short stop, he'd glimpsed at least two carrying sawed off shotguns under their dusters, while one was blatently obvious about toting a short barreled Winchester '73 with him.

He placed the stool under the step, then walked up and opened the door for the car's occupants. What he saw truly shocked him. He had known they were heavily armed, but the extent was a surprise even then. All were just donning their dusters, likely to conceal their hardware from the civilized eye. And rightly so, at least in the conducters opinion. There was enough iron to defeat the New York Police department.

All carried paired handguns, two were carrying Colt Peacemakers, another had Colts as well, but the New Frontier double actions. One had S&W Russians, the fifth had what appeared to be double barreled pistols, but what he wasn't sure, while the sixth carried a pair of massive single shot breechloaders in addition to his Remingtons.

On top of that, each had strapped a short weapon across the chest, concealed by their long coats. Two double barreled shotguns, a Winchester lever action shotgun, while the remaining three were short rifles, two Winchesters, a '73 and '92, while the third was a Marlin 1894.

Not to mention the bandoliers of ammunition, or sticks of dynamite alongside of bowie knives. The conducter glanced at the mound of luggage, "Good lord. I wonder what they've got in there?"

On the platform the group were met by a man dressed in the latest, conservative business suit.

"Mister Shackleford?" the man asked.

The lead man dropped the one bag with a dull thud, then extended his hand, "Lucas Jackson. Sorry, but Bubba couldn't make it, he's on a trip to Mexico at the moment," at the suited man's expression of sadness he continued, "Don't worry. We're his team, he took a bunch of greenhorns with him to trian up and sent us here."

The man brightened somewhat, "Fine then. Please, this way, and I will take you to my employer."

An hour later the group was standing inside of a luxurious study in one of New York's largest buildings.

"Mister Jackson?" A stern-faced butler approached the group.

"That's me," Lucas stepped forward.

"This way please," the man turned an arrogant glare at the team, "And be careful to not....brush anything on your way back."

"Gotcha pal," Kelly waited until the man was turned then expertly spat a stream of tobacco into a nearby potted plant. The butler turned, nostrels flaring and Kelly spoke up, "Got a spittoon?" he asked calmly.

"Thank you for coming so quickly mister Jackson, although I do wish Mister Shackleford had managed to come," John Rockefeller turned to the group.

"Well Mister Rockefeller, Bubba sends his regards, but a job offer came in from Mexico City an hour before yours. Both outbreaks are important, so he sent his entire team here."

"No no. It's quite alright. I understand," Rockefeller sat down in a large chair, "May I offer you a drink?"

"No thanks. We have to be clear-minded," Lucas then turned the conversation to the main topic, "What's the problem? In detail that is."

"Well," a grim sigh came from the wealthy oil man, "I own a small hotel. Not anything I especially want.....known that I own. Lets just say that is where some deals are made that I would prefer kept in the dark.

"I understand," Lucas replied.

"Good. Well. About a ten days ago the manager disappeared. A day later, two guests. The next day a pair of private detectives I assigned to the hotel went mising. It was then I figured something was up. A dozen men, heavily armed went in. Only two came out, but they got a concrete report of what it was. They nailed one vampire, but it melted before they got it out."

"Wait a minute," Kelly interupted, "You mean we're looking at maybe a dozen vampires?"

Rockefeller shook his head, "I doubt it. We evacuated the building, and there has been no disappearances nearby. So at least some of them had to have been fed upon. I doubt more than six have been turned. And even then, they would be new creations."

"Excuse me sir," Aaron stepped forward from the group, "But you seem pretty well....informed about them vampires. Not awhole lotta people know much 'bout em."

Rockefeller smiled, "Well my friend. That's something you will have to find out for yourself."

Lucas stepped between them, "Don't matter," he said, fixing Aaron with a hard glare, "We'll drop by the hotel first thing tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Rockefeller leaned forward, "Not today?"

"It's near dark. Even if it's dark inside a building, if it's not daytime outside, it still enhances their power. At least in sunlight, at least some beam reaches about everywhere inside a building."

The oil magnate nodded slowly and leaned back, "We shall see you tomorrow."

The men dropped their coats from their shoulders and gearing up. They stripped off their gunbelts and bandoliers, then opened their bags. Over top each of their shirts, they put a chain mail shirt. Most usefull in keeping zombie bites from penetrating, and minor protection against werewolf claws, they were only marginally protective against vampires. However anything was better than nothing.

Two of the men donned metal pot-style helmets, while the remaining four retained their cap and hat headware. The handguns, bandoliers, sharpened stakes and explosives were re-donned, the revolvers now fully loaded to six shots, with the hammer resting between the chambers.

Rockafeller watched them as each man tok a knife, and on roughly half of their dynamite, cut the fuses shorter, "What is that for?" he asked.

Lucas looked up, "Well, we won't have time for long fuses. If somethings on top us, these will go off faster, only take about 3 seconds to go off, "he smirked, "So ya better be fast about throwin' it." This got a chorus of laughs and guffaws from the men. They were boisterous and seemingly invicible as they chambered rounds in their rifles. But in the background, one could feel the tension.

This was their biggest job up to date. Multiple vampires. At least one old one. At least the new creations were less than two weeks old. Good thing Rockefeller had called when he did. Now they might have a chance.

'Still wish we could just blow the damned building,' echoed through the minds of many of the hunters. Nonetheless they all suited up and began heading towards the building.

As they stepped inside the building everyone became alert, rifles were unshouldered and kept at ready as they all slowly moved forward. Lucas stopped and held up a hand. He peered ahead then turned to the group.

"Jack, Aaron, you guys take point. If we see something, empty your barrels into them and drop. Reload while me and Kelly keep them occupied," he turned to the remaining two men, "Buck, Travis, you guys watch our rear. You never know about these bastards, they just might ambush us."

He looked carefully ahead, "The gas lamps are still burning here, so the vamps probably haven't got here yet. Be carefull anyway. And keep your blades ready," he said at last.

Slowly the group made their way deeper into the building, moving slowly, room by room. There was at least three seperate hallways each direction in the building, and it would allow the vampires and whatever they had created to move away from them, or worse, towards them, coordinating an ambush. But it couldn't be helped, with this many vampires, splitting into two or three groups would be suicide. The best they could do was smash the blacked out windows at the hallways ends, allowing the bright light to stream into the halls. It wouldn't be direct sunlight, and at best it would disorient the weaklings, while the older ones it wouldn't hardly faze. But anything was better than nothing.

The second floor was clear, as was the third. The fourth finally found the gas lights all extinguished, but empty of any undead. The group paused at the stairwell to the fifth floor. Almost as one, the hair raised on their necks as a cold breeze came from nowhere and out the opening.

"There's one there," whispered Lucas, even though the entire team knew it. Probably waiting on the steps directly above the door.

"There's another stairwell right?" another member of the team nodded. Lucas began thinking. The head honcho probably had a vampire sitting guard at the other stairwell. But at least they could take this one out now.

He didn't like using dynamite. Even though it likely wouldn't start a fire, there was always the chance. In the confined areas the concussion might faze his men. But it was also the most effective way to hurt young vampires.

Lucas withdrew a stick of dynamite from his pocket, then held it up to his cigar, the main reason he had left it lit. The fuse sputtered, then rapidly burned itself towards the stick he held. Pausing, he stuck his hand through the doorway and flipped it upwards. There was a clatter as it rolled on the steps, then a loud roar just before the explosion.

The group stepped into open doorways just before the stairwell entry exploded in a shower of splinters. Almost immediately barrels poked out the doorways as the entrance was covered. There was silence for a few moments, dust and smoke slowly settling around the carnage. Then, a shriek cut through the building as a shape hurtled from the doorway.

It shuddered to a halt as Jack and Aaron leaned from a single doorway and emptied four 10 gauge barrels of buckshot into the vampire's chest. Even from the sawed off barrels, at fifteen feet, they hit like slugs, ripping and burning into the vampire's chest. However, as quickly as it stopped, it lept forward again, the silver pellets squeezed from it's body, seemingly none the worse for wear.

Dropping their shotguns, both drew their revolvers. .44 and .45 silver-cored slugs staggered the vampire as it charged their position, however that was the worst of it as it reached their doorway.

"OVER HERE ASSHOLE," the vampire paused as it glanced over it's shoulder. It's eyes met Lucas' as he raised the '92 Winchester. At gatling-gun speed, .44-40 bullets slammed into the vampire's head. It stumbled incoherently a moment as the shotgunners unsheathed their blades. Aaron swung his saber, a Light Cavalry model, identical to the one he'd carried. Even with his head still restitching itself, the vampire sensed the attack. Instead of the neck, the silver-edged blade embedded itself deep into the vampire's shoulder. It screeched and pulled away, taking the sword with it.

"THEY"RE BEHIND US," yelled Buck. The rear guard rapid-fired six silver slugs into the two approaching shadows, then rapidly began plucking shells from his bandolier as his partner Travis emptied his '73 Winchester into the vampires.

"FUCK, IT'S AN AMBUSH," Kelly hollared above the noise.

"NO SHIT SHERLOCK," Lucas hollared back as the first vampire viciously pulled the sword from it's shoulder and slammed it into the wall, narrowly missing it's owner. It charged the team leader, jerking from the .44 slugs, becoming slightly more sluggish as damage racked up. Intent on it's target, it didn't notice Jack until it was too late. A wooden stake appeared from the front of it's chest, impaling it from behind. It screamed again, then twitched as it slammed into the floor. In an instant Kelly was on it. An axe flashed, and the screaming stopped, the head slowly rolling against the door.

Almost simultaneously, Kelly was off his feet, slammed into the wall with enough force to send him crashing through and into the vacant room. Not pausing, the new vampire slammed into Jack, throwing him to the end of the hall. It was obviously a newer creation, and it turned to Lucas without scarcely a pause and charged him. Used to bullets, still carrying four that his body hadn't yet expelled, he didn't hesitate at the handgun in Lucas' hands. It should have.

With a belch of smoke and sparks, the flare impacted with the vampire's head hard enough to embed itself, burning into the flesh. It screamed and clawed at it's face as it ripped at the pain. Stepping forward, Lucas drew his second flare gun and jammed it into the neck of the vampire, pulling the trigger, while simultaneously jamming a wooden stake into it's chest. Off-mark, and without the strength of a double-handed thrust, the stake didn't pierce the heart, but between it and the flare, it disoriented the vampire. It staggered back, squarely into the Aaron's Cavalry Saber. It grazed across the vampire's neck, drawing a thick spray of black blood.

With a howl it turned, but too slowly. Aaron had trained as much with the sword as others had with handguns. Already he had drawn back and with a mighty blow, decapitated the undead monster.

As the last of the creature's screams died, quiet overtook the hall. Empty shell casings broke the silence as revolvers were emptied and reloaded, and the snicking as rifles were topped off. Fully loaded, the group began looking around at each other.

"Where's Kelly?" someone asked. In answer a moan came from the adjoining room.

The group watched as Kelly was put into the carriage to be taken to a hospital. Breaking through the wall had smashed most of his ribs. Luckily nothing had been penetrated, protected mostly by the chain mail armor, however that did little for blunt impact. He'd live, but it also left the team a man short.

"You're still going in there?" Rockafeller asked.

Lucas nodded, "Got to." Aaron continued for him, "We've attacked. The vampires know the end is coming. They have to clear out tonight."

"And it's getting closer than I'd like," Buck continued, "They're damn smart for being new, already ambushed us once."

"Yeah. And Luke, who the hell is Sherlock?" Jack asked.

"He's a detective. Over in the London papers. Written by a," Lucas frowned, "Dale I think?" Doyle? that's it Doyle."

The group continued the banter as they re-entered the building, drawing a smile from the bystanding police, and a sigh from Rockefeller.

Inside again, the tension increased. Since they had left, all the gas lamps had been extinguished. Even the ones on the second floor. The vampires were moving. Well they had eliminated three, although the worst part was there could still be three more, and one older creation.

They crept upward slowly, checking each doorway carefully before moving on. It was a tense forward attack. The darkness seemed blacker than before. Two differant rats nearly met their makers as they scurried across the floor.

Not yet had they reached the floor they had been attacked on when the doorway in front of them ripped open and the ceiling exploded downward behind them.

"WIGHTS," yelled Aaron, sending twin barrels of 10 gauge buckshot tearing into the nearest wight's head. It dropped to the ground twitching, as the hallway exploded in gunfire.

The pair of wights which followed their ill-fated leader were caught as a second 10 gauge was emptied into them, along with the rapid-fire of paired Colts. A blade clanged as a head was taken off one. As if in harmony, the Winchester .44-40's cracked alongside the 12 Gauge 1887 as the rearward wights were dissected.

As suddenly as it started, it went quiet. The several day old, newly created wights had been easy victims of the trained Monster Hunters. The hallway was filled with the sounds of clicking as four of the hunters opened loading gates, ejected empties or snicked fresh shells into the rifles.

It was human instinct to reload at first opportunity, and the veterans were experianced enough to not relaxe their guard. However just doing something small and simple as taking a second to thumb a cartridge from their belt and into a loading gate slowed reflexes by valuable fractions. Lucas paused as the other's reloaded. Something was coming.

The vampire silently dropped from the ceiling hole, directly between Buck and Travis. The first vampires had moved fast, but this was an older creation, and it was a blur as it tore through the rearmost hunters. It backhanded Travis, sending him crashing through the thin walls and into an adjoining room. Buck's 12 gauge roared once before a hand blurred into his head, sending him into the ground.

With the rear guard gone, the vampire charged for forward three hunters. Their reactions were better than Buck and Travis', having been forwarned. .44-40 slugs and 10 gauge buckshot slammed into the vampire as it tore down on them, unlike the newer creations however, it didn't flinch in face of the burning silver, slamming into Jack and Aaron. The latter was in the process of drwing his cavalry saber as the vampire grabbed the scabbard and used it to propell him into Jack and send them both into a side room.

Lucas was the last one standing as the vampire turned. The monster paused a moment as it looked at him. It was somewhat unnerving to see the well manicured and groomed gentleman before him, suit, polished shoes, slick hair and a slight moustache.....and with his hands dripping in blood, some splattered onto his clean coat.

"HEY ASSHOLE," Lucas hollared, half deaf by the hallway gunfight. The vampire chuckled and the chuckle grew until it seemed like his lower jaw became unhinged and he leaped forward. The blur was halfway to him as Lucas pressed the triggers on his flare guns. The red hot projectiles impacted on the vampire's chest, eliciting a roar...of anger rather than pain, and distracting him...but did not stop him.

Only a dozen feet away from him, Lucas gathered his legs under him and shoved himself forward into the vampire. Unprepared for the "victim" to attack, the mid-air impact threw the creature off kilter and it fell against the wall. It was up in a flash and back on him, but Lucas was ready.

Whereas even the others of the team were experianced, some with Bubba Shackleford upon his forming it, he had been a career professional 4 years before Bubba had even expected vampires. And that's also what his specialty had been. Blood-suckers.

His knifes were already drawn from their sheathes when the vampire attacked. Lucas preferred guns, they made it easier, but at times even blades had use, especially when both hands were wielding, making it that much tougher to block.

The vampire feinted at him, then launched itself hard towards him. Dodging the brunt, Lucas still caught most of the vampire's impact on his left side. His right hand came around in a blur and a stream of black blood erupted from the vampire's back as the silver blade ripped a deep gash, nicking his spine.

The vampire faltered a second as it's nerve link was nicked, then rehealed. Long enough for a second stab to be directed into it's back, downward and into it's black heart. It let out a loud screech and froze for a second. A second only. It whirled around and swatted Lucas from his back and down the hallway. It turned slowly, allowing it's wounds to heal up, then started to walk towards him.

A shotgun roared before it moved two feet, and a silver slug entered the vampire's skull. Weakened from it's fight, it staggered as a second and third slug was delivered into it's chest. As Lucas dragged himself up off the ground, he glimpsed Travis shooting Buck's Winchester '87 one handed, flipping the lever shut and firing his fourth and last slug into the vampire's head.

The vampire was disoriented as it's wounds healed. It had taken damage, and was confused, but it still had plenty of fight in it. The vampire's last head wound just notted itself together as it marched down on Travis. His left arm hanging useless, he swung the Winchester as a club, but failed as the vampire effortlessly grabbed it in midair, then used it to butt-stroke it's owner into the wall.

The vampire growled, then raised the shotgun to deliver a death blow when it froze. The monster's hand hovered in mid-air for a moment, then the creature screamed as it dropped to the ground, wooden stake impaling it's heart from the back.

"GO TA HELL YOU BASTARD," Lucas swung Kelly's axe down on the vampire's neck and decapitated it, cutting off the screams as the body melted away.

Lucas stood there, then began checking his men. Slowly he managed to drag all five to the hallway. Travis was unconcious by the blow of the shotgun, Buck had fared worse. The vampire's initial blow had caved in his head, flat enough that both ears were touching. Lucas had let out a massive sigh of relief as Jack and Aaron both managed to drag themselves from the ruins, albeit slowly and without the use of some limbs.

The remaining trio hunters look at the carnage around them. Dead wights, the vampire's bones, the body of their friend and comrade alongside the unconcious. Jack leaned into a open doorway and threw up. This was the worst day they'd had in a long time. As he rejoined the group, Lucas spoke up.

"We didn't get him....you know."

"What?" Aaron asked, "What the fuck do ya mean we didn't get him? Get who?"

"The vampire who started it all," Lucas replied.

"What? Ain't that him?" Jack spoke up.

Lucas shook his head, "That's the hotel manager."

New York Docks.

A shadowy figure slowly walked along the docks. Dressed in a suit, covered by a massive cape, the sailors glanced at him as he walked past, but dismissed him as a traveller searching for a ship.

The man....or creature indeed was. Making his way to a ship in the distance he slowed as he approached it.

"Yes, yes. Just what I need," he muttered, "A vacation. An ocean voyage sounds...wonderful." He slowly walked up the gangplank onto the passenger ship. A simple living was getting much too tough in the United States. First Alabama, then New York. Was there never any rest? He handed some bills to the steward who approached him, "No baggage. Reservations room 85" he said and the man nodded and turned to take him to his room.

Now a ship...That sounded like the perfect vacation. Food couldn't escape from you, and no damned monster hunters would come after you.


End file.
